Sweet Tea and Secrets (42 page)

Garrett’s jaw tightened.

“We were able to resolve the point of origination and source,” the fire investigator explained.

Jill leaned forward. “He lit the drapes in the living room on fire.”

“With a lighter,” the man added. “We found the lighter just outside the front door. He must have dropped it when he fled the scene.”

“Now they just have to find the son-of-a-bitch.” Garrett’s jaw pulsed.

The man put the Yukon in gear. “Y’all take care, and be careful of hotspots if you’re going to poke around.” He waved as he headed out the driveway.

“Kase is going to pay for this,” Garrett said. “I know it’s not Christian to wish ill on someone, but he earned some real punishment.” The truck idled alongside the edge of what little was left of her childhood home.

Garrett shut down the motor then Jill climbed out of the truck. The two of them moved among the rubble, sifting through the debris for any memento that may have escaped ruin.

Jill leaned over and picked up a charred silver picture frame. She stood in the ash of what used to be the living room. Only a few pieces were preserved enough to figure out what they’d once been.

She had difficulty imagining that, just days ago, this had been a house that had withstood time. A house that had held strong against the worst hurricanes the coast had seen. Floyd, Andrew, Isabelle—all had given these counties a fit but this house had never shirked its duty to keep them safe.

Jill swatted her hand against her jeans, sending dust flying in all directions. The sun had dried most of the deep ashy mess. She stepped carefully into new territory, wary of finding hot cinders.

Springs from Pearl’s favorite chair still sat in front of the brick hearth. The blanket she’d been working on was nothing but a memory now, along with so many other personal things.

Garrett stood in the middle of the kitchen among the charred appliances. They were black with soot and most of the boards that once held the structure strong, were scorched and unstable. Garrett leaned against the stove, crossing one boot over the other, his arms folded across his chest.

Jill walked over to him and wrapped her good arm around his neck. His palms rested on the small of her back. She felt safe in his arms, even in the middle of the disastrous mess.

He rested his chin on the top of her head, and kissed her hair.

“We probably should get going,” he said.

“I know. Can we stay just a little while longer?”

“Don’t push yourself. We can come back every day if you want,” Garrett said. “If you’re up to it.”

Jill gave him thumbs-up and smiled. She swept her foot through the deep mess, squatting occasionally to pick up something.

It was late in the afternoon, and the air was starting to cool a little. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting orange and pink swirls along the bottom of the skyline. Jill continued to kick through the ashes while Garrett walked the perimeter.

Garrett got the blueprint out of his truck and rolled it open across the hood of his truck. After a moment, he twisted the paper into a roll and walked back toward the far end of the house, tapping the twisted tube of paper against his leg with each step.

“Jill?”

She waved. Her voice still too fragile to yell.

He motioned for to come over. “Come here. I think…well, just come here.”

She moved through the uneven mounds of black ash to the outer perimeter and then crossed the yard.

“Look at this.” He circled a spot on the plans.

“Is that the old fire box thingy?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, that’s right there.” He pointed to a section just a few feet away where they used to store wood from the outside and access it from inside.

She tried to reorient herself. “So what’s this?”

“That’s what I was trying to figure out.” Garrett lifted the rolled papers. “Know what this is?”

“Uh, yeah. A blueprint,” Jill said in a sassy tone.

“Smarty pants.” He popped her on the top of the head with the tube. “It’s the blueprint that Connor gave us that day we met with him.”

He scrolled out the paper on the ground and pointed out the bricked area in front of them. “See how this is blocked in? What was here?”

“That’s where the built-in bookcases were. I guess this would have been where the decorative metal grate was in the center of it.”

“I wonder why it’s built up like that. Structurally there’s no reason for the foundation to be reinforced here.”

Jill’s eyes lit up. “That’s it!”

“What?” Garrett asked, reacting to the change in her expression.

“The foundation. That’s it. In the letters, remember?” Her voice rattled as she forced the words out. She took the bottle of water from where she’d tucked it in her sling and took a sip.

“
Keep all that is the foundation of our love safe and then—” She took another sip so she could finish the thought, “—something about the strength is in the foundation or something like that. Remember?”

“I do.” He jumped to his feet.
“Wait here.” Garrett ran to the toolbox on the back of his truck. He jogged back carrying a small canvas bag of tools and the big heavy maul he used to split wood for the winter.

She backed out of his way.

Garrett held out his hand protectively, scooting her even further back. He swung hard, landing the maul squarely on the spot they’d been looking at. The cinderblock cracked and the wood splintered. Several more slams exposed dark metal.

Garrett knelt and scattered the broken pieces to get a closer look. He paused, his eyes meeting hers.

“What?”

“It’s a safe, Jill. I guess Pearl had access to it from the grate in the bookcase.”

She clutched her bum arm as she kneeled beside him. “I bet the key we found in the attic fits this safe. Too bad everything is gone.” she said wistfully, her eyes sweeping the ashy mess.

He slowly turned toward Jill. “What did you just say?”

“I said—”

Garrett put a hand on her knee. “I heard you, wait here.” He sprinted over to the truck.

Jill watched him rummage in the console.

In just a few quick moments, he sauntered back, holding something in his hand. “It was so unusual I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away.”

Her mood soared when she realized what it was. “For once, being a pack rat is coming in handy.”

He smirked. “I guess you haven’t forgotten everything about me.”

“Trust me. Not a thing…and I tried.”

He gave her a wink. “I’m unforgettable.”

“And so modest,” she teased. “Now, hush and try it.” She shifted nervously.

He slid the key in the lock. “A perfect fit.”

One turn, and they both heard the click.

“Finally. Thanks, Pearl.”

Garrett opened the safe. “There was no chance anything in here was going to get ruined. This thing is indestructible.” He lifted another box out of the safe, set it on the cinderblock and lifted the lid.

Jill reached for the roll of deep blue fabric tucked inside. A ribbon secured the roll, just like the one that had held the letters.

She nodded toward her slinged arm. “You open it.”

He took a handkerchief from his back pocket and laid it on the ground, placing the fabric jewelry roll in front of her.

Jill tugged on the ribbon and Garrett flattened it slowly.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. A rainbow of colors and shapes spilled out in front of her. Her skin tingled as the vivid colors danced in front of her so bright she couldn’t bear to touch them. These were not worthless baubles. The pearls luminescence radiated a precious story that matched the awe she felt as she’d read the letters between Pearl and John Carlo. “This is more than I’d ever imagined.” Her heart felt full as she blinked back the tears of realization of just how precious this treasure must have been to her grandmother.

“No wonder Kase was so hot to find this.” Garrett leaned back on his heels.

“Do you think Carolanne was right? Do you think those pearls are really worth a million dollars?”

“I couldn’t begin to imagine.” He stared in awe at the pile of brightly colored pearls. “Maybe more. I’ve never seen anything like them.”

Pearls of orange, pink, violet and the shiniest blue-black he’d ever seen—the Pacini Pearls.

Jill separated them into piles by color as Garrett counted them. “There are more than fifty loose pearls here.”

“What’s that?” Jill pointed to the edge of the fabric. A heavy seam outlined the inside edge of the cloth, like a pocket.

Garrett ran his fingers down the seam and reached into a small slit in the hem.

His eyes went wide as he took something out of the self-fabric pocket.

He held up an icy blue sapphire the size of a nickel. The teardrop-shaped gem had been set as a pendant. A thin sliver of that same light blue ribbon looped through the golden slide, and a scroll of paper secured by a man’s wedding band hung from the end of the ribbon.

Garrett handed the treasure to Jill.

Her eyes locked on the magnificent pendant. “I can’t,” she whispered, “—you.”

He nodded for her to hold out her hand.

She did.

He dropped the pendant into the center of her palm.

She gasped.

He slid the ring from the scroll and placed it in her hand, too.

She held it up between her fingers. “Put it on,” she said to him.

“You sure?”

She nodded.

He slipped the ring on his finger, then opened the small scrolled paper. “It says, ‘Thank you my dearest Pearl for our perfect son. With Love, JCP.’”

“Their son. My dad.” Jill mouthed the words.

Jill laid her hand, with Pearl’s ring on her finger, across his. “A perfect match.”

“The rings look good too,” he answered. “There’s something else.” He opened a florist-size envelope and flipped the card over. The pearls are a treasure, but love ~ that’s the real find. Never let go
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Chapter Twenty-Three

Clyde barked in the middle of the night, waking Garrett and Jill. Jill shot straight up in bed, startled.

“Wait here.” Garrett sprung from the bed and grabbed his gun from the top dresser drawer. He stalked toward the front of the house in the dark.

Jill followed, grabbing his arm from behind, nearly scaring him out of his skin. “Sorry, I was scared.”

Garrett shushed her and stepped forward. Clyde whimpered.

When Garrett reached the front door, he leaned against it and listened.

Clyde barked again.

Garrett stepped to the far side of the door, Jill hugging tightly behind him. He opened it wide and stepped back out of view. Clyde raced through the door and sniffed his way toward the edge of the yard, but didn’t bark.

“Oh, God. Garrett. It could be Bradley. Clyde didn’t bark at him, remember.” Her breathing became difficult.

“Calm down. These are new surroundings for Clyde.” He peeled her fingers from his flesh. “Slow down,” he said, trying to keep her from hyperventilating.

She squeezed his arm tight again. “I’m scared.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded.

“You’re okay. I’m just going to look,” he said, as Jill stooped to the floor.

He started toward the door then paused to make sure she was where he’d left her.

She huddled on the floor, her knees tight to her chest.

Garrett picked up the flashlight from the table next to the door, stepped out on to the porch, and then called for Clyde.

“Come on, boy,” Garrett called as he crossed the yard.